


Day 21: Company Party

by SaiTheWriter



Series: Turkstober2020 [19]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Holidays, M/M, Party, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Turkstober (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiTheWriter/pseuds/SaiTheWriter
Summary: Mistletoe and a possible death in the future. (Not really, Reno's just dramatic.)
Relationships: Reno/Roche (Compilation of FFVII), Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Series: Turkstober2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957075
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18
Collections: Turkstober 2020





	Day 21: Company Party

Leaning against the railing, Reno watched the chaos beyond the glass panes, between the patio he perched on and the party going on inside. Company parties were just never anything but chaos at the best of times, and the holiday party was by far the worst. It always started out great, open bar and catered, a few raffled off prizes and some expensive but tame DJ. One of the few times that several departments ever even saw each other. Even the grunts got to mingle with anyone, there weren’t many in uniform for the evening, and tables were seat yourself. Which really, that was a bit of an oversight.

His gaze slid towards the unmistakable eh,  _ visage  _ of Scarlet, hips swaying while she approached a group of troops he knew from various missions. On the prowl and it wasn’t even ten, he almost felt bad for whoever in the little group of mystified employees while she singled one out. Whoever it was, they’d wake up sore in the morning, mildly terrified, and probably satisfied as all hell. Ridden hard, and put away wet.

His eyes skirted along towards one of the SOLDIER tables, flicking through some familiar faces as all the classes meshed together and sang bawdy versions of holiday songs. Some had ventured out amongst various other tables, but for the most part stuck together. There weren't labels, that was true, but it didn’t stop good friends or mission groups from sitting together.

His throat tightened at the thought, glancing along the mostly empty table to the few there in business casual.. Abruptly, Reno turned away, slamming back the burning taste of the liquid in his glass and sliding it towards the built-in counter and ashtray of the rail. Ah, that’s what he needed. Shoving a hand into his pocket, the Turk dragged out the black familiar little box and brought out a clove, his other fingers grabbing for his lighter.

“What’s going on, Suit?” His eyes closed briefly, lips thinning. Just what he needed. Steeling himself for another encounter, the redhead shifted his head, glancing towards the door and the voice. Roche cleaned up pretty good, out of uniform. Burgundy sweater and a pair of distressed charcoal jeans. Not exactly business casual, but given the amount of people in ugly holiday sweaters, it wasn’t like anyone was gonna call the fashion police. “You looked all cold and alone out here, Red.” Roche murmured as he approached, looming right into his personal space.

Reno huffed out a low noise, turning to slap his pack on the table and thus shift out of that immediate presence. Warm as it might have felt to be near him, Reno still didn’t want to be right up next to him. Besides, he had a damn nice scarf on. So his feet shuffled, taking him just to the other side of that built in while he regarded the SOLDIER.

“Ain’t you supposed to be in there drinking poor grunts under the table? Last I saw ya had some in there passed out in their own cake.” An old tradition, given most regular troops couldn’t ever hope to keep up with a SOLDIER and their drinking games, even on a low day for someone. 

“Isn’t my fault they can’t hold their own in a race.” Roche shrugged, slinking closer still. “No, I couldn’t stay after I saw a lonesome little suit out here lookin’ like somebody stole his favorite chopper.” Fuck sake, more of those puns. Even if they were terrible but humorous, it wasn’t exactly what he wanted right now. Or was it? “Who pissed in your cereal, Red? Let me know and I’ll take them down a peg.”

“Whaddaya gonna do, take em’ to traffic court?” Reno hummed, his smile sliding back onto his lips. Asshole that he was, it was pretty hard not to laugh when the man was making an actual effort to cheer him up. It was…odd. After the sandwich, they’d started some weird ass competition of antagonizing each other, two gnashing sharks trying to catch each other’s tails while slipping away. The last he’d seen of the man was when he’d slipped into the SOLDIER’s showers and changed out the man’s pomade for ca wax. Bastard thought it was cool as hell and ended up wearing it all day and using the rest on his baby.

His feet scooted back as the other man’s footsteps brought him closer, bracketing him in on either side with his legs. This…this was probably farther than he’d been during the sandwich escapade that started it all, but now the lack of warmth in the area had him actually leaning in closer to the heater of a man in front of him, scarf be damned. He smelled good, just as good as he looked, in fact.

“Think I got some lovely tricks up my sleeves for anyone making you pull such a long face.” Roche returned, that smirk definitely showing off his cocksure mannerisms Reno was so used to seeing when he was in the saddle. “As for you, I think I have a few tricks as well, maybe it’ll get you to smile. Maybe it’ll get you to huff.”

“Gonna pull my ponytail or somethin’ again? Gotta say, the slingin’ is getting stale lately.” His own head rose, belly warm and reinforced by the liquid confidence currently settled in his veins. Any other day of the week, he would have just ignored the jabs and slipped inside. But something about being outside and still surrounded by coworkers, yet ignored by them all? It settled in him deep.

“You want me to pull your hair? I’ll do that. I like gettin’ your engine goin’, Red.” The rumble of his voice never failed to quicken his pulse when it got that low, and unconsciously, his fingers tightened in their grip on the railing he leaned against. Fuck it, there was no better time than a holiday party, an evening where the next morning people tended to pretend the night was just a memory and return to work unbothered.

“What if I wanna let you take me for a test drive, yo?” The redhead uttered, head still tipped a little down, peeking up through red lashes. 

“Well I’d say I’m ready to take you for a spin, so long as the key’s in the ignition.” His hair shifted in a sharp tug, breath catching in his throat as his head swung back to meet the demand. His neck remained loose, enough to keep from being jerked, but also enough to settle up in a position to await his next move. It was then that he noticed the silver bow hanging in the arch above them, a fresh green sprig dangling right there. It was only seconds to see, but it was enough, giving him a view of his demise before those lips slid over his own, the scrape of his facial hair tickling along his cheek from the sideways shift.

It was spice. Citrus, with a hint of something and the undercurrent of whiskey. He floundered briefly in the taste before regaining his footing, and tilting in to fight anew. Tongues tangled in a mess of liquor and undercurrents of other flavors, his fingers moving to grip onto that chenille soft texture with a pleased noise. Roche fought hard to keep his kiss comfortable at first, but his rowdy nature soon enough had Reno on the defense, grateful for the hand that curled around his lower back and kept him from leaning too far into the rail while they rumbled.

It wasn’t until a throat cleared that he jerked in surprise, tearing away from the pleasant lips to peer over the taller man’s shoulders and towards the door he hadn’t even heard. That neither of them heard, they had been so caught up in each other. His heart stopped as his gaze lit on the features of the man in the doorframe, swallowing thickly.

Tseng peered back, mildly curious eyebrow arched, clad in a dark tur(k)tleneck and navy slacks. “It wasn’t easy to tell from inside whether you were fighting or…” Bland as you please, delivered with a sting to cause the flush in his cheeks to reappear. That had to be the chill in the air, nothing more. 

“Ah.” Roche still looked a bit surprised and frozen, so he elbowed the man sharply in the gut. “Just out for a smoke break yo.” Even after the elbow, the man still seemed hesitant to move, but when Reno looked back up, he found him not looking at Tseng, no. Looking past him.

Right into the gaze of a very unhappy Rufus Shinra.

Fuck. Immediately his mind ran into gear, shoving sobriety into the spotlight while things settled into the place. Strangely quiet veranda with a door hidden from the crowd’s immediate eyesight, yet still there when a closer look was had. The only mistletoe he’d seen at the entire party settled on that very arch. The plant unseen save at the right spots underneath it. The party always signed off planning wise or for input by the VP himself. The VP Rufus Fucking Shinra currently burning a hole into his head with that laser focus.

“We were just leaving boss. Come on, Speedy.” He jerked the oaf along, who was likely coming to a similar conclusion, seeing as he was actually complacent and slid off to the side so they could make it through. “Ya look like you’re all set for a private discussion, don’t let us stop you.” Tseng moved outward so that they could slip through, and Reno held the door for the blond as he walked past and out as well, turning to make a grimace at Roche. With a stroke of genius, He leaned and shifted one of the banner stands with their emblem over until it near completely masked the door. Even better disguise.

“I can’t believe we survived cockblocking the vice president.” His gaze slid towards the SOLDIER, watching the near awed expression towards the now hidden door. 

“Ain’t a promise yet, Speedy, come on. If we’re dying tomorrow, I think we deserve one last ride. Fuck, you’ve got me on your bullshit too, get us outta here before I start sayin’ ‘vroom’ or some stupid shit.” Reno uttered, tugging that sweater once more.

Roche looked as though he were dazed by their near miss with death, but the idea of a ride gave his system a reboot. “What, yeah? Really?”

“Yes Romeo, now pick your jaw up off the floor before I change my mind and get drunk enough for Scarlet to take me home again to get railed.” Dragging him towards the door, the redhead tossed a wave to others on the way out, cursing his luck when he realized his cloves were still outside. Fine. Tseng owed him.

“Wait. Again?”


End file.
